


Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

by pronker



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pronker/pseuds/pronker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin sings in the shower.  Slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

Title: Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

Author: pronker

Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in George Lucas' and Disney's Star Wars, using its characters and settings. I am neither Walt nor George.

Rating: M

Era: Clone Wars, pre-Ahsoka

Summary: Anakin sings in the shower.

IOIOIOIOIO

Anakin chose the _strangest_ songs to sing in the shower lately, mused Obi-Wan. His robes for the day in hand, he stepped out of the walk-in closet afforded Jedi Masters of a certain rank. The day after tomorrow, Obi-Wan turned thirty-seven Standard, and he was beginning to appreciate his perks in the Jedi Order. Not that he had in any way rested on his laurels, he assured himself; no, it was simply that he had reached a stasis point, one sorely needed after strings of active missions in the field.

 _"It cost me a lot, but there's one thing that I've got, it's my ma-aan --- "_ warbled Anakin. The 'fresher acoustics rendered his pleasant baritone richer and deeper than normal.

 _ **Where** did he pick this tune up?_ Obi-Wan undid the towel about his waist from his own shower of not ten minutes before, and stepped into his drawers. Anakin's presence faded to the usual white noise as the Dressing Ritual began. 

Layer One: undergarments. Done, except for his socks. He chuckled. Dare he to consider going barefoot all through breakfast, possibly up until he needed to leave his and Anakin's nest for the day? _Kenobi, you rebel._

Layer Two: inner tunic. Done and done. 

Layer Three: trousers. Finished.

Layer Four: outer tunic. Yes. 

Layer Five: obi. All right. 

Layer Six: tabards. Indeed.

Layer Seven: belt. Complete, except for his lightsaber. It sang to him from his nightstand, a lonely bass note in the Force. Other times it chimed and once it even bellowed. Today was a deep tone, redolent of duty. Today would be no different than any other day, all duties performed, and when he went to sleep that night, he could say to himself, "I am ready for this day to end."

_" --- two or three girls has he that he likes as well as me, but I loooove him --- "_

_**"Girls?"**_ Oh, well. Another reminder that Anakin would never be his, at least in the way that Obi-Wan wanted. He grimaced. On second thought, it was foolish to leave off his socks and boots during breakfast because his feet might get crumbs on their soles, and then he would need to wash all over again.

He sat down on the non-standard issue clothes valet with which Anakin had gifted him, the kind with a clothing heater. It had been extravagantly expensive, he thought as he plunged his foot into the snug vamp of his boot. Once Anakin had some real spending money, he splurged on the most outrageous things, bon-bons and exotic hair dressings and other things that Obi-Wan's frowns and pointed looks had not discouraged him from purchasing. Slavery had bred profligacy in his friend, Obi-Wan thought, as he stomped down his other boot sharply to snug its fit. He reared to his feet. 

_" --- oh, I'm not made of wood, he isn't good, he isn't true, he beats me, too, what can I do --- "_ Well, _those_ were some strange lyrics. At earlier times after his Padawan had ripened into a fruit fit for plucking, Obi-Wan _had_ been made of a certain sort of wood during this time of the morning. It must be Jedi discipline that had whittled him down to size each time. Obi-Wan harrumphed. Discipline, and the realization that Anakin had someone else in his life, who filled him with desire, someone who wasn't Obi-Wan.

Master Qui-Gon had taught Obi-Wan calming techniques, but uplifting techniques as well, for when a day seemed one in an endless stretch of days. Uplifting techniques called for meditation upon the basic goodness of life and gratitude for its continuation. It was a meditation for standing upright, arms outspread to embrace the future, eyes closed, contrapuntal to seated lotus positions. It was a meditation for gathering strength and finding a new hope. 

_" --- I love him so, he'll never know, all my life is just despair, but I don't care --- "_

Obi-Wan jerked out of his reverie as the shower sounds dribbled to a stop. _Despair_ was a harsh word. Was Anakin having difficulty in his love life? Could Obi-Wan help? The Force trembled with uncertainty. To be his friend, Obi-Wan stationed himself within view of the 'fresher door as he stood before the hallway mirror. Anakin could not help but see him upon exiting. 

The door opened. Obi-Wan stared into the mirror, brushing back his bangs which had the distinctly bothersome habit of flopping into his eyes. Steam billowed from the 'fresher, steam and an Anakin whom Obi-Wan caught sight of peripherally.

Obi-Wan continued to primp, straightening his collar, tugging at his belt. He offered himself staunchly on the altar of friendship, waiting for Anakin to make a move or say something to open a dialogue. He rehearsed soothing words of advice amid those Active Listening techniques that Qui-Gon had also taught him. Yes, today would be a day like any other day. Obi-Wan would continue to guide Anakin along the Jedi path. That Anakin was already a Knight did not matter. It never did.

Silence reigned.

Obi-Wan turned at last. He had to prompt his lungs to breathe, because Anakin took his breath away. Nude, tall, and daring, his former Padawan stilled his Force presence like at no other time which Obi-Wan could recall. Usually Obi-Wan was the rock and Anakin was the restless wind, the surging tide, but this morning Obi-Wan was as tremulous as a quaking aspen. He shivered despite the steam's heat.

Anakin crooked a finger. He jerked a thumb back in the direction of the 'fresher.

"But - but - but - I thought that you and the good Senator --- "

"Actually, Master, it's been the _bad_ Senator for some weeks now." Anakin stepped closer. A wisp of the Force parted the mists of steam. Another wisp orbited Obi-Wan's waist, tapping his belt buckle. It made a kissing sound.

The golden, glowing vision that was Anakin raised a dripping eyebrow. Obi-Wan stared, mesmerized, as a drop of moisture with the sheen of sweat crept down Anakin's scar to grace his cheek. 

Abruptly, Obi-Wan remembered more of the song's lyrics. 

_" --- when he takes me in his arms, the world is bright, all right --- "_

Obi-Wan nodded. A moment later, his belt hit the tiles with a _clunk._

_I'll need to dress with the Ritual all over again._

_Pity, that._

IOIOIOIO

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy St. Valentine's Day 2015!


End file.
